


a simple touch

by slytherintbh



Series: halcyon days [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Friendship, Javert Lives, Post-Seine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 23:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12715299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherintbh/pseuds/slytherintbh
Summary: There is something very tender in the way that Cosette thinks of Javert. He is an oddity, much like many other things in her life, and she appreciates him - the odd, stoic inspector who is so distant, and so kind.





	a simple touch

**Author's Note:**

> need more interaction between these two to be honest

“Please, take a seat, inspector. I’m sure Marius and papa shan’t take long.”

Cosette watches as Javert awkwardly settles himself into a chair, taking note of the room in sharp, clever glances. Large, thin hands sit uncomfortably about a cup. She thinks he does not look so well – he never has, at least never in her memory, and she supposes that he once was bright and vital. Marius tells her often of the time that Javert lent him two pistols.

“He was much ruder then than he is now,” Marius notes, always with the same injured inflection. “You father has had a good influence upon him.”

Certainly. Her father is a good influence upon everyone. Yet Cosette is unsure, even so, for she recognises the haunted look in Javert’s eyes. It is not so unlike the hunted expression that papa wore whenever he thought Cosette could not see. She saw; she sees still, acutely aware of the exhaustion that follows Inspector Javert like a spectre. Must all the men around her be so afflicted? She must always pretend that she is innocent, hide her knowledge of what occurred at the barricades and at the riverside.

“The tea is good,” Javert says, graciously, although his tongue curls around the grace like it is some unfamiliar acquaintance. “Thank you, Madame.”

“I’m just Cosette. Within this family, I am just Cosette.” She reminds him of this constantly. No doubt the conversation will be rehashed for years yet.

“Thank you.” He screws up his nose in a surprisingly human motion. “Cosette.”

What a terrible enigma. She wishes she could ask him about his past, only the wall between herself and the days of her youth is impossible to break down, and father still is delaying telling her all of it. Part of this, she suspects, is out of kindness to Javert’s person. Perhaps also to himself.

“He is eating?” she asks, quietly.

“Not as much as I would like. Yes. I make sure of it, Ma – Cosette.”

“That is good. Thank you, for I do worry so, and it is a great relief to know that someone is looking after him.”

“It is an honour,” Javert says, with a foreign warmth, and then winces. He sups at his drink and looks carefully away.

This man. This strange, spindly figure, this quiet and mournful man who nurses and cares for Jean Valjean with the tenderness of a mother. Or a lover. They argue enough like lovers. Often, it is because father will start to tell a lie and find himself interrupted as Javert immediately corrects him. Honesty is not a perfect virtue to Valjean and it is fundamental to Javert, and this small difference has led to a great many revelations and heated exchanges.

Cosette cannot untangle her feelings towards Javert. Deep friendship, although they have known each other only for brief months, something approaching familiarity, warmth.

Moving to sit next to him, she pries one of his hands away from the china and holds it in her own. Calloused skin meets unblemished youth. Cosette knows nothing of toil, although there are little scars from her childhood that suggest she has merely forgotten it, rather than enjoyed complete innocence of hardship.

“We are glad to have you here,” she says, gentle, and smiles.

Javert smiles back. It’s small, as painfully honest as everything else the man does. “I am glad to be here,” he replies, and she knows it is truthfully meant.


End file.
